


and at last (i knew i was not magnificent)

by sassyclassy_ass



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A Desperate Desire To Bone, Angst, Dancing, F/M, Jonsaexchange, Sexual Tension, There Is No Boning Though, These Dorks Don't Know What To Say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 07:06:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11641467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassyclassy_ass/pseuds/sassyclassy_ass
Summary: “What did you see of me, in your dreams?” Jon asks her again, his tone graveling against her ear in the most delicious way imaginable. And yet it melts her, serves something unknown directly to her core.Something inside her breaks and a hot stickiness spreads itself beneath her skin. It stretches her skin tight and fills her with a savage madness that was once unknown and strange.Now it is all that she can think of. This breathlessness; this fire; this strange need to tell him all. She feels it within herself, is suddenly so aware of that hidden space, of that precipice in which one word could mean her tumbling down.





	and at last (i knew i was not magnificent)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [geekprincess26](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekprincess26/gifts).



> For the first round of Jonsaexchange! I hope you like it, my dear!

The two of them had escaped to the corridor, tired of all the drunken happiness of men who have crowned a new king. Their cries and shouts are faint now and it feels as if it is only the two of them. It is for that reason, her words slip out, unbidden and spontaneous.

“I dreamed of you,” she tells him slowly, her head bowed down. There is a halt to their swaying and slow dance before it continues on.  

“And what exactly did you dream of?” Jon asks, his voice lower and throatier than a brother’s voice should be. She looks up and studies him carefully. His eyes are dark and clouded with something that Sansa has seen in the eyes of much too many men.

This doesn’t scare her though. He doesn’t scare her and she moves closer to him, resting her head on his chest. She is quiet for a moment, simply breathing in this moment, breathing in Jon.

The music is a distant sound. It is almost as if they are in a whole separate world where there is only the two of them and their gentle sway.

The music is so distant, distant enough to simply be a long-forgotten dream and yet that is not far enough still and Sansa wonders of the reaction of all the great Lords and Ladies, of their great and good king Bran and their sister if they were to all stumble onto Jon and her.

She finds that she does not care if they do.

“What did you see of me, in your dreams?” Jon asks her again, his tone graveling against her ear in the most delicious way imaginable. And yet it melts her, serves something unknown directly to her core.

Something inside her breaks and a hot stickiness spreads itself beneath her skin. It stretches her skin tight and fills her with a savage madness that was once unknown and strange.

Now it is all that she can think of. This breathlessness; this fire; this strange need to tell him all. She feels it within herself, is suddenly so aware of that hidden space, of that precipice in which one word could mean her tumbling down.

There are flashes of movement, hurried gasps that belong to the darkness, that fades into it. _Tell him. Tell him now_.

And yet she does not.

"I dreamed of all the songs they wrote about us, " she says quietly, directing her words to the wall. It is not the answer he had wanted. It is not the answer she had wanted to _give_ but this is a world where there is only one answer and one choice for brothers that are dear and beloved

"It sounds like a sweet dream," he says kindly but she knows what he truly means. A sweet dream but a dream all the same.

She pulls away from him, just enough to look up. "No, not a dream, not for long. " Now Jon truly does smile.  Here in the dark, it makes him look like a prince. Here in the dark he is her knight of flowers.

"I do not believe they will be songs you like, " he carefully points out but she only shakes her head.

"Then I will write all of them." She decrees, her voice brooking no argument. Jon pauses for a moment, as shaken by her words as she is by his presence but then he nods and they return to their swaying.

“What would you write about?” Jon says after a long pause. She draws closer to him, though this is folly. Here in this corridor, with only the faint sound of music, wisdom dies a quiet death.

She pauses and thinks for a moment, a grin quickly lighting up her face. “I would write a song about the way you snore when you’ve had too much wine.” Jon laughs at the jape and that all familiar warmth and quiet happiness rises, overwhelming and wonderful and a nuisance all at once.

Jon tilts his head, a kind frown teasing his lips. “You’re a cruel woman.” He says, his voice sombre but she hears the hint of a tease and it makes her stomach burst into a storm of flutters.

“Well you can only thank yourself.” She jests, but her smile slips at the softness in his stare. It has been so very long since someone has looked at her with such care and kindness. It has been a very long time and yet here Jon is, staring at her as if she were the only thing that matters.

“I have no regrets.” And her breath comes to a stuttering stop, only in the way that Jon can do. She will never tell him that of course, never mention how he causes her to melt in a way that is so girlish and young. This is a secret that she wishes to keep close.  A secret only for her.

Sansa sighs, “Only foolish men have no regrets.” She reminds him, her voice perhaps sharper than need be but she hopes her smile softens them.

“I have never believed myself to be anything other than foolish. It is hard to be wise in your presence.” There is still the hint of a tease in his voice but she hears the truth within his words, hears his plea. It makes something inside her loosen and fall back, soften and shape itself into the girl she once was.

Sansa had long ago believed that she was rid of such romantic inclinations and girlish fancies but Jon’s words have her hurtling back into the past. _You make me half mad,_ she wants to scream.

“Don’t say such things. It is not within you to be foolish,” she says brusquely instead. The words do not sound like her own. They are not the words she wishes to say and yet, she says that and more. “Wisdom may not be your strength but you are no fool.”

There is a flash of disappointment and her stomach sinks with the weight of words that should have been spoken.

They fall into a silence, paying mind to anything but each other. She studies the wall carefully, allowing her mind to think of little and nothing. But it is an impossible feat and thoughts like ivy creep through the cracks of her mind, and she is struck with an all too keen awareness of him, of _them_.

_Why shouldn’t I allow myself to have a little joy? Jon, he’s my brother but not by blood. There is no sin in caring for him. There is no sin at all._ She tells herself, half believing but mostly desperate.

Her thoughts do not sound like the truth.

“It is late now, we should retire,” Jon’s voice is distant and tired and the meaning of his words is beyond her grasp. He is always just beyond her reach. Running ahead and she can never quite catch up.

She does not tighten her hold or speak but she does not let go either. It would be so very easy to let go of him. Fall back into their usual dance, always passing the other, always glancing and never quite there.

It would be a very easy thing.

But it is a lonely thing, never being with another to speak her feelings or her truth. And Sansa has been alone for a long time and while she’d like to think that makes her immune to what he offers, it does not.

And his bravery, so quick to present itself, to provide strength to those around him. Sansa cannot help but feel it leeches onto her, for now she pushes, she strives, and speaks of what should always remain unspoken. No matter how slight it might be, she can only take so much from him.

“I dreamed that all the songs were about us. About all the things we did.” Her voice is small, easily lost in the darkness but Jon’s eyes are upon her and she cannot help but feel pride at this small truth and this small bravery. It is not the answer that he quite wanted and it is not the answer she might have wanted to say but it is a truth close to her heart.

“That is a very sweet dream,” Jon says slowly, face unsmiling but his eyes. Oh, how his eyes shine. She smiles and presses her forehead against his. Jon breathes heavily but ever so slowly closes his eyes at the sudden contact.

“Yes,” she says, allowing herself to breathe in this moment, allowing herself to believe that she had just been a little bit braver. “It was very sweet dream.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr as eliamartvll :)


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